


Communion

by Laylah



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor
Genre: Blood Drinking, Gen, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 08:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10873113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: "This is a power given to the messengers of the Lord," Power says calmly.





	Communion

**Author's Note:**

> "Blood Wine" makes a strong showing in the contest for "kinkiest racial skill" tho of course now that I say that I'm looking sideways at Bind, too.

The Orobas lunges for her and Yuzu throws her hands up reflexively to protect herself. The impact makes her stagger backward and she bites out a yelp of pain as something goes _crack_ inside her wrist. At her left Power strikes out with his lance, driving Orobas back. Tears sting the corners of her eyes but she makes herself straighten up, takes a deep breath and calls on power (power she shouldn't have, power she shouldn't need): the hot August air grows chilled around her hands, sparkling, and she throws the magic in the Orobas' direction. Ice bursts against its hide, once, twice, three times, and it freezes in place. On Yuzu's other side, Ishtar lashes out, and the frozen demon shatters, dissipating into the same blue-black mist that accompanies their summoning.

Yuzu takes a few deep, shaky breaths. Her wrist feels like it's on fire. She's dizzy from the effort of casting as much magic as she has over the last few minutes. On the other side of the park, Atsuro and Kazuya are still fighting, and there are more demons looking her way. She can't relax yet.

"I need healing," she says, looking over at Ishtar.

Ishtar shakes her head, her horns sweeping a graceful arc in the air. "I'm just as drained as you are, I'm afraid."

Yuzu cradles her probably-broken wrist against her chest and tries not to cry. One of the others can probably help, if she can get close enough before any more demons catch up to her. But she counts at least three demons she'd have to get past first, and her own supporters don't have any skills to help them cross the field quickly.

"Dost thou require assistance?" Power asks. His voice is chiming and resonant, and it would probably be beautiful if it weren't just another reminder of how _wrong_ this whole situation is.

Still, the other demons are sizing them up as a target. Yuzu nods. "Is there something you can do?" Power is a fighter, not a healer. She'd have thought that an angel would be gentle, but he's not anything like she expected.

He flips his spear around and slashes the tip across the bare inside of his elbow, above the edge of his gauntlet. Yuzu jumps, startled, and then stares in dismay as blood wells up in the fresh wound. It's deep plum red-purple, strange as his pewter skin, and his eyes are as impassive and alien as ever.

"What are you _doing_?" Yuzu demands.

"Lady Ishtar," Power says, stepping toward her. "If you would."

"She can't—" Yuzu starts, but Ishtar is reaching out to take Power's hand.

She doesn't heal him. She lifts his arm and bends down and presses her _mouth_ to the wound, and Power's wings twitch faintly behind him but he doesn't protest.

"What are you doing?" Yuzu asks again, less vehement and more helpless this time. 

"This is a power given to the messengers of the Lord," Power says calmly, as if he isn't bleeding, as if he isn't having his blood drunk by someone he only tolerates because they're both under contract. "We may shed our blood to restore our comrades' spirits."

Yuzu doesn't even know what to say to that. 

When Ishtar raises her head she licks her lips once and then says, "You should drink too, summoner."

" _What_?"

"We're going to want more ice when that Orthrus gets over here." She says it so calmly, so matter-of-fact. "And that won't take long."

"Be at ease," Power says. "This act is sanctified and not unclean."

"I—that's not..." Yuzu trails off. They don't have time for her to argue about it. It's true; if she can't use magic, she won't be able to defend herself effectively. "Okay," she says before she can second-guess herself. "Okay."

She steps into Power's shadow, goosebumps rising along her skin at how cold he seems. He raises his arm, offering her the wound. The blood beads in the cut, dark and glossy. Yuzu closes her eyes as she leans down.

It tastes good. Yuzu knows the taste of blood far better now than she did even two days ago, and this is nothing like that too-familiar copper sharpness. It's cool and strangely sweet, tangy, like the juice of some fruit she's never tasted, and as she swallows it she can feel the way energy washes through her limbs. She gets goosebumps, starting at the nape of her neck and shivering all the way down her arms.

It _feels_ good, like stepping into air conditioned chill on a day so hot and muggy it's exhausting just to walk down the street. Yuzu finds herself sucking on the wound, hungry for more of that feeling, for any kind of relief—

Power's other hand falls on her shoulder. Yuzu jumps.

"Prepare thyself, Lady Summoner," Power says. "Our foes approach."

Yuzu straightens up, looking across the park. The Orthrus and its friends are getting close. Beside her Ishtar casts that healing magic at last, the gentle light of it settling over all three of them and soothing away the throbbing in Yuzu's wrist. Power's wings flutter and he shifts his grip on his lance.

The lockdown is changing her, changing all of them, and Yuzu doesn't want to think about what that's going to mean for the future. But she faces the approaching demons, the sweetness of angel's blood lingering on her tongue and her wrist no longer broken, and if change is the only way to get through this, then she'll do it. She'll survive.

**Author's Note:**

> Why doesn't Yuzu have Media equipped, anyway? Probably just to facilitate this ficlet happening.


End file.
